Rabbits chase me with delight, they say I help you see at night. Buried bright beneath the land, I’m pulled up fresh by a farmer’s hand.

I am the witch hidden in your lunch, and the floor of the sea. I help you see through windows, yet I am opaque. I tell the time without a single gear, But once I slip through your fingers, I disappear.

I’m loved for my beauty, soft to see, yet sharp thorny defenses shelter me.

Green on the outside, sweet red delight, summer's cool treasure, a picnic's highlight.

You think of me as grey and dull, but I can be surprisingly colourful. Often nocturnal, drawn to flame, who am I, this butterfly's cousin with the short name?